CHANNING 
Thoughts  on  Peace  and  War. 


THOUGHTS     ON      PEACE      AND     WAR. 


AN 


ADDRESS 


DELIVERED  BEFORE  THE 


AMERICAN  PEACE   SOCIETY, 


AT   ITS   ANNUAL   MEETING,   MAY   27,    1844. 


BY  WALTER  CHANNING,  M.  I). 


PUBLISHED    BT   REQUEST   OF   THE   SOCIETY. 


BOSTON: 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY. 

Depository,  13  Treraont  Row. 

1844. 


Printed  by  William  S.  Damrell,  No.  11  Cornhill,  Boston. 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  person  appointed  to  deliver  the  address  at  this  anniversary 
of  the  American  Peace  Society  was  prevented  doing  it,  and,  at  a 
very  late  hour,  I  was,  somewhat  informally,  desired  to  write  one. 
I  could  not  say,  yes,  and  I  would  not  say,  no,  but  took  time  to 
think  about  the  matter.  "  To  doubt,"  in  such  a  case,  I  might 
have  known,  "  was  to  be  resolved,"  but  I  did  not  know  at  the 
moment  what  the  resolution  might  be.  I  went  home,  thinking 
of  the  matter  as  I  went  along,  and  though  the  distarice  was  not 
great,  by  the  time  I  reached  my  house,  I  resolved  to  write,  had 
a  scheme  of  an  address  made,  and  went  to  Avork.  The  official 
appointment  came  about  the  middle  of  the  present  month,  May, 
and  by  that  time  the  address  was  written. 

This  history  is  given,  not  by  way  of  apology  for  the  hasty  and 
imperfect  manner,  in  which  what  is  writ  has  been  set  down,  but 
because  of  the  omission  of  topics  of  so  pressing  interest  that  sur- 
prise and  disappointment  may  be  felt  that  they  are  not  treated. 
There  is  the  Texas  question,  and  there  is  the  Oregon  question, 
and  there  are  others,  "  vexed  "  ones,  too,  which  are  so  grave,  in 
their  peace  bearings,  that  you  may  wonder,  reader,  that  they  are 
omitted.  I  regret  that  it  is  so.  There  are,  however,  considera- 
tions which  diminish  this  regret.  Those  questions  will  not 
produce  war,  unless  a  very  great  change  takes  place  in  public  sen- 
timent. The  settlement  of  the  boundary  question  is  not  a  promise, 
merely, — it  is  a  solemn  pledge  and  guaranty,  that  like  questions 
shall  be  settled  in  like  way, — that  matters  between  this  and  other 


INTnODUCTION. 


nations  ehall  not  be  attempted  to  be  settled  by  resort  to  arms,  bu  t 
by  an  arbitration,  which  shall  secure  the  common  interest.  What 
proof,  what  better  proof  than  this,  of  the  progress  of  civilization, — 
of  Christian  civilization?  Let  the  friends  of  peace  be  true  to 
their  ministry.  Let  them  labor  in  their  cause.  Let  them  difTuse 
light  concerning  it  daily,  and  every  where.  Let  them  hold  no 
terms  with  war,  or  with  preparation  for  war.  As  Christian 
friends,  and  lovers  of  peace,  can  they  do  either  ?  Let  those  who 
have  money,  but  not  the  time,  nor  the  habit  of  such  work, — let 
them,  as  faithful  stewards  of  Christ,  pour  out  their  wealth  like 
water,  to  promote  this,  his  special  mission,  the  central  element 
of  his  gospel.  If  any  have  refused  so  to  aid  it,  let  them  with- 
hold their  alms  no  more. 

I  have  a  word  or  two  more.  For  the  doctrines,  and  for  the 
opinions  of  this  Address,  I  am  alone  responsible.  For  a  moment, — 
it  was  but  for  a  moment, — it  was  thought  that  a  word,  or  a  sentence 
or  two,  might  have  been  adapted  to  some  temporary  criticism  of 
a  portion  of  the  public  press.  The  criticism  was  the  probable 
result  of  an  imperfect  memory,  or  of  some  unhappy  tendency  to 
find  fault,  and  this  without  the  current  excuse.  It  has  not  been 
heeded.  The  Address  was  written,  as  above  stated,  at  short  notice 
and  when  it  was  finished,  it  was  done.  I  have  given  a  copy  for 
the  press,  in  the  deep  conviction  of  its  truth.  W.  C. 

Boston,  May  30,  1844. 


ADDRESS. 


The  settlement  of  the  boundary  question  between  this 
country  and  Great  Britain,  forms  an  epoch  in  the  history  of 
Peace.  Nations  had  before  settled  grave  questions  by  sub- 
mitting them  to  umpires.  This  was  not  an  uncommon  mode 
of  adjusting  national  difficulties  a  few  centuries  ago.  In  the 
supremacy  of  the  Catholic  church,  the  pope  was  a  common 
and  a  frequent  umpire.  It  was  attempted  in  our  own  case 
to  bring  about  a  settlement  with  Great  Britain  by  arbitration. 
By  mutual  consent  the  question  was  submitted  to  an  umpire, 
a  king,  as  if  the  recognized  authority  of  royalty  might,  in  an 
international  matter,  aid  in  adjusting  what  had  long  been  at 
serious  issue,  and  which  it  was  feared  could  otherwise  only  be 
settled  by  the  stern  and  unholy  arbitrament  of  war.  Mutual 
pledges  were  given  to  abide  the  friendly,  and  so  the  just,  de- 
cision ;  an  umpire  was  selected  ;.  the  question  was  submitted ; 
the  decision  was  made.  We  know  the  result.  The  king  of 
the  Netherlands  had  his  labor  for  his  pains.  The  pledges 
were  not  redeemed.  The  royal  award  was  not  accepted. 
Here  the  matter  for  a  time  rested.  But  new  troubles  arose, 
or  old   ones  were  revived,  and  it  became  more  and  more 


6  THOUcnTS  on  peace  and  war. 

cviilrnt  tliat  bordor  quarrels  about  a  disputed  territory  would 
infallibly  lead  to  general  confusion,  and  a  new  effort  was 
made  to  settle  the  question.  For  tbis  purpose  a  commission, 
consisting  of  two  men,  Lord  Asbburton  for  England,  and  Mr. 
Webster  for  America,  was  appointed.  These  commissioners 
met  in  Washington.  We  are  told  that,  in  the  first  place^ 
and  before  a  diplomatic  note  passed  between  them,  they 
came  together  as  man  to  man,  to  confer  on  the  great  subject, 
involving  such  important  results,  and  which  had  been  so 
gravely  committed  to  them.  They  discussed  in  the  fullest 
detail,  and  in  the  most  friendly  manner,  every  point  at  issue. 
In  this  way  principles  were  reached  which  lay  at  the  founda- 
tion of  the  whole  subject,  and  made  the  future  management  of 
the  whole  question  simple  and  easy.  Diplomacy,  technically 
so  called,  followed.  The  preliminary  intercommunication 
of  thought,  gave  place  to  that  correspondence  in  writing, 
which  would  give  permanent  record  to  the  principles  which 
had  been  reached  ;  and  allow  of  their  communication  toothers. 
We  all  know  the  result.  How  cheerfully  did  both  govern- 
ments ratify  what  their  own  joint  commission  had  so  wisely 
settled!  In  the  British  Parliament,  and  in  the  American 
Congress,  the  debates  on  the  treaty  recognized  the  principles 
which  had  been  so  fully  admitted  in  the  execution  of  their 
joint  commission  ;  and  in  effect  declared  that  hereafter  the 
voice  of  Christianity  should  be  heard,  and  its  principles 
recognized,  whenever  occasion  for  their  agency  should  arise 
out  of  the  relations  of  the  two  countries.  How  strongly  does 
this  appear  in  the  vote  of  thanks  to  Lord  Ashburton,  in  the' 
parliamentary  debate  referred  to. 

This  is  a  recent,  and  a  short  history.  But  how  full  of 
matter  for  profound  gratitude,  and  for  serious  thought !  It 
has  had  both.  From  press,  and  from  pulpit,  the  public  voice 
has  uttered  itself,  and  we  this  moment  enjoy  the  great  bless- 
ing which  the  manly,  the  generous,  the  Christian  deliberations 


THOUGHTS   ON   PEACE    AND   WAR.  / 

of  those  two  great  men  have  made  ours.  We  are  this  day, 
this  hour,  in  the  midst  and  presence  of  the  blessing  of  peace, 
—  of  a  peace  purchased  with  no  blood;  but  which  is  the 
honored  product  of  mutual  confidence,  of  profound  wisdom, 
and  of  unerring  truth.  I  place  this  important  passage  in  the 
history  of  two  countries  in  the  foreground  of  what  I  have  to 
say,  because  of  its  importance,  and  because  it  is  grateful  to 
the  cause  of  peace,  and  to  its  friends,  to  give  honor  and  pay 
reverence  to  those  who  have  so  lately  and  so  directly  pro- 
moted its  best  interests  amongst  us.  But  there  is  another, 
and  to  some  a  deeper  motive  for  this  substantive  interest 
in  this  historical  event.  Mr.  Webster  and  Lord  Ashbur- 
ton  were  a  commission  for  a  certain  object.  But  whence 
their  commission  ?  From  whom  that  great  power,  that 
large  discretion  ?  They  were  but  two  men  out  of  forty 
and  more  millions  of  people.  Whence  their  commission? 
I  answer,  from  those  millions.  Yes,  from  them  was  it  that 
the  power  came ;  and  to  speak  for  the  people,  as  was  that 
eloquent  patriarch  prophet  of  old,  so  were  those  two  chosen 
to  speak  for  peace.  Here  it  is  that  the  subject  of  our 
present  thought  and  speech  gets  its  dignity :  and  here  does 
it  lay  its  claims  to  our  chiefest  regard  and  gratitude.  The 
people  of  England,  and  of  America,  through  their  august 
governments,  the  representatives  of  themselves,  and  always 
true  representatives,  too,  of  the  public  virtue  or  the  pub- 
lic vice,  —  its  greatness  or  its  degradation,  —  the  people, 
the  public  sentiment,  gave  utterance  to  its  great  voice 
through  those  two  great  men.  It  said  to  them,  this  boun- 
dary question  shall  be  now  settled  ;  this  disputed  territory 
shall  be  for  what  God  designed  it,  namely,  for  those  men,  and 
women,  and  children  who  dwell  in  or  on  it.  It  shall  not,  in 
its  barrenness,  or  in  its  luxuriant  harvestings,  be  made  a  cause 
of  war.  This  possible  cause  of  that  deepest  woe,  that  deep- 
est national  delinquency,  shall  be  so  no  more !     So  did  the 


8  THOUGHTS  ON   PEACE  AND   WAR. 

people  speak  by  their  accredited,  their  commissioned  agents, 
and  its  word  was  heard,  and  heeded.  In  these  considerations 
we  find  the  true  significance  of  that  treaty  of  peace.  Do  we 
not  find  in  it  promise  and  prophecy  of  the  perpetuity  of  that 
chiefest  national  blessing  ?  The  wisdom,  the  Christian  wis- 
dom of  the  people  must  and  will  answer  the  question. 

Let  me  here  advert  to  another  important  fact  in  the  history 
of  our  times,  and  of  which  that  just  mentioned  is  a  product. 
I  moan,  the  long  continued  pe.ace  which  it  is  so  grateful  to 
dwell  upon,  and  to  record.  It  is  almost  thirty  years  since 
the  last  battle  in  Christian  Europe  was  fought ;  and  this  is 
the  time,  too,  since  this  country  closed  its  last  war.  When 
in  the  long  age  of  the  latest  civilization  has  such  a  period  of 
peace  been  known,  —  when  such  breathing  time  from  the 
hot" service  of  war?  Since  the  thirteenth  century,  has  there 
been  such  a  time  ?  Look  at  France  ;  look  at  England.  War 
between  these  border  states  was  for.' ages  regarded  as  their 
natural  condition.  Now  the  court  gazettes  tell  us  of  queenly 
and  kingly  visits  between  these  ancient  enemies.  The  con- 
fidence and  kindness  of  good  neighborhood,  have  replaced 
that  ancient  fear  and  hatred  ;  and  the  blessings  of  peace 
replace  the  horrors  of  war.  Look  over  the  whole  European 
continent,  and  you  see  every  where  the  same  spirit  of  peace 
in  gentle  exercise.  The  Autocrat  of  all  the  Russias  is  mak- 
ing imperial  progress  towards  the  sunny  south,  to  visit  gentle 
queens  and  kings.  '  Not  as  the  hero,  nor  as  the  warrior,  comes 
he  from  his  far-off  home.  He  comes  as  an  honored  guest ; 
and  the  hospitality  of  kingdoms  meets  him  every  where  on  his 
way.  It  is  now  safe  for  kings  and  queens  to  journey.  Their 
safe-conduct  is  the  universal  peace.  Who,  which  of  the 
nations,  will  be  so  reckless  in  regard  to  the  prosperity  and 
happiness  of  the  whole  world,  or  so  unworthy  of  an  inde- 
pendent existence,  of  a  being  in  the  times  in  which  we  live, 
as  to  think  for  a  moment  of  any  act,  which,  by  any  chance, 


THOUGHTS   ON  PEACE   AND   WAR.  9 

can  disturb  this  great,  this  wide  peace  ?  What  state  so  bar- 
barous as  to  insult  this  rpign  of  peace  with  the  word,  even, 
of  war?  But  wliy,  then,  this  interest  in  this  subject?  Why 
have  we  left  home,  and,  it  may  be,  other  duty,  and  why  have 
we  assembled  in  this  place,  —  in  this  anniversary  week,  —  in 
this  our  saturnalia  of  Christian  offices  and  works,  to  speak  of 
peace  ?  Let  me  ask  your  attention,  while  I  endeavor  to 
answer  the  question.     We  have  assembled. 

First :  because  of  the  Christian  origin,  and  the  Christian 
obligation  of  peace. 

In  that  most  touching,  and,  at  the  same  time,  sublime 
passage  in  the  life  of  Christ,  his  visible  consecration  to  his 
mission  to  man,  his  baptism,  a  word  came  from  the  excellent 
majesty  of  heaven,  and  that  word  was  peace  !  "  On  earth, 
peace,  good-will  towards  men."  Christ  went  up  out  of  the 
waters  of  baptism  with  the  investiture  of  peace.  He  went 
up,  and  passed  under  the  cloud  of  the  shadow  of  death,  in 
his  great  ministry  of  life  to  the  world,  but  peace  went  up 
with  him,  and  he  never  laid  aside  that  beautiful  garment,  his 
robe  of  salvation.  When  about  to  be  offered  up,  the  sacri- 
fice, among  his  last  words  of  sacred  bequest,  of  divine  legacy 
to  his  disciples,  and  to  us  amongst  them,  peace  had  its  august 
place.  The  first  word  in  his  ministry,  it  was  the  last  of  his 
life,  —  "  Peace  I  leave  with  you." 

You  ask  no  comment.  The  record  is  with  you  unto  the 
end  of  the  age.  You  ask  not  a  word  more,  —  not  a  letter, 
a  syllable  of  explanation,  or  of  enforcement  of  the  word  from 
that  evangelist.  My  Christian  brethren,  you  are  filled,  you 
are  satisfied  with  that.  I  do  not  ask,  if  the  church,  the  visi- 
ble body  of  Christ,  has  been  true  to  that  last,  that  divine 
testament,  that  blessed  legacy.  I  do  not  ask,  if  we,  men  and 
women  here  assembled,  have  been  followers  after  peace,  and 
in  its  divine  guidance  have  found  its  great  blessing,  and  have 
2 


10  THOUGHTS   ON  PEACE  AND  WAR. 

given  to  others  what  we  have  so  freely  received.  We  have 
come  together,  that  we  might  think  and  speak,  too,  of  this 
great  theme,  this  Christian  grace,  and  chief  element,  peace. 
Let  us  farther  speak  of  it,  and  commend  it,  as  we  may  be 
alile,  to  the  reverence,  the  love,  the  obedience  of  each  other, 
and  so  of  all  within  our  reach. 

I  cannot  well  omit  speaking,  for  a  moment,  of  a  recent 
occurrence  which  has  some  bearing  on  the  subject  of  peace 
in  its  Christian  relations.  I  refer  to  the  debate  in  Congress, 
on  that  portion  of  the  appropriation  bill  which  provides  for 
the  pay  of  army  and  navy  chaplains.  A  member  from  In- 
diana, named  Petitt,  moved  to  strike  out  this  clause,  on  the 
ground  that  Christianity  denounces  war  ;  enforces  the  obliga- 
tion of  peace  under  whatever  provocation  ;  requiring  that 
evil  should  never  be  resisted,  but  that  it  should  be  overcome 
with  good.  In  other  words,  he  showed  how  utterly  incon- 
sistent it  was  with  the  whole  spirit  of  Christianity  to  have 
its  doctrines  taught  to  armies, — to  bodies  of  men  collected 
together  and  supported  for  the  express  purpose  of  violating 
a  fundamental  principle  of  Christianity,  which  commands  us 
to  save  life,  not  to  kill. 

When  the  member  had  sat  down,  many  others  followed 
each  other  in  rapid  succession  in  defence  of  Christianity,  and 
in  defence  of  the  appropriation,  on  Christian  grounds.  The 
member  from  Indiana  was  called  an  "infidel,"  —  his  speech 
"  blasphemous," —  in  short,  nothing  was  judged  too  bad  to 
be  charged  upon  that  member  for  his  anti-christian  argument, 
so  called,  against  the  appropriation  for  the  army  and  navy 
chaplains.  In  the  course  of  the  debate  a  member  rose,  not 
to  defend  the  Indiana  member,  but  to  defend  Christianity 
against  its  friends.  His  speech  was  dignified,  solemn,  rever- 
ential. He  rebuked  the  spirit  in  which  our  religion  had  been 
defended.     You  felt  grateful  for  so  much  wisdom,  so  much 


THOUGHTS   ON   PEACE   AND   WAR.  11 

true  piety.  Who  does  not,  with  that  honorable  member,  see 
the  inconsistency  of  the  pubUc  sanction  of  war,  or  of  its 
preparation,  which  comes  of  connecting  with  it  in  any  way 
the  rehgion  of  the  Prince  of  peace  ?  Who  does  not  sympa- 
thize with  that  "  infidehty,"  if  such  it  be,  which,  in  the  speech 
of  that  member  from  Indiana,  declared  the  utter  incompati- 
bility of  war,  and  of  armies  and  navies,  with  Christianity  ; 
and  which  denounced  the  gross  waste  which  an  appropriation 
was,  and  ever  must  be,  for  paying  the  salaries  of  their  chap- 
lains ? 

Few  single  facts  in  our  public  history  are  more  instructive, 
or  have  a  deeper  meaning,  than  that  Congress  debate  on  the 
connection  between  war  and  Christianity.  Let  the  friends  of 
peace  keep  it  in  mind. 

1  proceed,  as  was  proposed,  to  speak  of  peace,  and  in  its 
commendation. 

Peace  is  commended  to  us  by  its  power,  by  its  nobleness 
and  great  dignity.  It  is  full  of  power.  It  bestows  on  him 
who  has  it  entire  possession  of  himself.  Nothing  without 
him  can  disturb  him.  The  soul,  where  peace  dwells,  is 
beyond  self-trouble.  A  blessing  was  pronounced  on  those 
who  have,  and  who  promote  peace,  which  contains  in  it  what 
must  confer  true  power :  —  "They  shall  be  called  the  chil- 
dren of  God."  Peace  thus  brings  the  human  soul  into  inti- 
mate, the  nearest  relations  with  God.  It  establishes  a  closer, 
a  different  connection  from  that  which  the  idea,  and  the  fact 
of  creation  brings  with  it.  It  is  that  of  adoption.  It  implies 
common  interests,  and  a  like  nature.  Having  its  foundation, 
as  we  have  seen,  in  Christianity,  it  gives  to  that  its  true  inter- 
pretation, and  manifests  its  life.  What  can  disturb  him  who 
lives  daily  and  hourly  in  and  by  the  faith  which  is  in  Christ  ? 
What  on  earth,  or  what  in  hell,  can  overcome  the  love  of  that 


12  -  THOUGHTS  ON  PEACE  AND  WAR. 

man  who  is  in  fellowship  with  the  Father,  and  who,  by  a 
true  adoption,  is  become  a  child  of  God.     The  poet  says, 

"  Exceeding  peace  had  made  Ben  Adem  bold." 

This,  this  it  is  which  covers  man  as  with  a  garment,  —  a  gar- 
ment of  celestial  fabric,  and  which  nothing  can  pierce.  Its 
strength  is  in  its  deep  silence, — its  entireness,  —  its  unbrok- 
en harmonies  with  God,  and  with  the  universe.  It  gives 
itself,  by  an  active  transfusion,  to  all  within  its  reach  ;  and 
by  its  gentle  wisdom,  which  is  ever  from  above,  it  enlightens 
the  world.  How  full  of  power,  of  authority,  is  the  infant 
child  !  He  stands  in  his  physical  weakness,  a  monument  of 
the  power  of  peace.  He  has  not  yet  learnt  war,  —  the  great 
lesson  of  hate,  which  the  world  will  be  sure  to  teach  him,  he 
has  not  yet  learnt.  He  is  conscious  of  his  own  being,  and 
of  yours;  but  he  no  more  fears  you  than  he  does  himself. 
Power  is  his,  and  who  but  a  madman  does  not  obey  it !  The 
popular  mind  ascribes  all  this  to  ignorance  on  the  part  of  that 
infant  hero.  Ignorance  of  what  ?  Of  man's  sin,  of  his  cru- 
elty, his  deep  selfishness.  To  me  it  is  the  manifestation  of 
the  divine  in  which  man  was  made,  and  which  is  not  yet 
defaced  by  the  contact  of  surrounding  evil.  Look  at  the 
child  as  he  declares  his  power ;  and  in  his  sublime  beauty, 
his  noble  bearing,  see,  and  feel,  too,  the  power  of  perfect  peace. 
Again.  The  state  of  peace  is  noble.  What  true  noble- 
ness is  that  which  comes  of  the  possession  of  true  power,  — 
such  power  as  I  have  just  alluded  to,  and  attempted,  feebly 
indeed,  to  describe?  The  hero,  the  world's  hero,  too,  is  he 
who  has  once  or  more  in  his  life  of  war  upon  others,  dis- 
covered the  success  of  his  conflict  with  himself,  —  the  pos- 
session and  exhibition  of  the  principle  whose  nature  we  are 
now  considering.  Washington,  to  my  mind,  is  most  the 
hero,  when  he  is  most  the  man  of  peace.      Hence   was   his 


THOUGHTS  ON  PEACE   AND  WAR.  13 

nobleness,  his  manliness,  his  extreme  dignity.  He  was  less  a 
warrior  than  any  celebrated  soldier  in  the  annals  of  nations. 
You  call  that  in  him  which  came  from  the  peace  principle, 
prudence,  wariness,  wise  caution,  wisdom.  You  see  him 
retiring  before  superior  forces,  and  you  have,  to  you,  the 
illustration  of  his  prudence.  I  see  in  it  something  else,  and 
something  more,  than  this  cold  element  in  your  catalogue  of 
the  military  virtues.  I  see  in  it  the  power,  feeble  as  you 
may  regard  it,  in  the  present  instance,  —  the  power  of  the 
principle  of  peace.  It  took  the  hero  from  the  wild  work  of 
bloodshed  and  murder  ;  and  war  sought  its  ends  by  nobler 
means.  Any  other  view  of  the  matter  than  this  gives  to  that 
conduct  of  Washington  some  of  the  attributes  of  fear.  He 
saw  uncertainty  in  the  result,  was  apprehensive,  and  would 
not  take  the  chances.  There  was  imminent  danger,  and  he 
would  not  incur  the  risk.  I  have  offered  a  different  expla- 
nation of  the  moral  state  of  that  honored  man.  I  see  in  that 
habitual  policy,  so  called,  the  power  of  the  peace  principle, 
and  a  purpose,  so  far  as  it  was  seen  to  be  possible,  to  buy 
liberty  at  another  price  than  that  of  blood.  In  the  annals  of 
war,  never  was  so  little  blood  shed  as  in  the  revolutionary 
war  of  this  country  with  Great  Britain.  Never  was  such  an 
end  obtained  at  so  small  expense  of  the  ordinary  means. 
Never,  in  such  a  service,  had  the  peace  principle  so  much 
place,  and  never  has  such  honor  been  the  award  of  war. 
Look,  for  a  moment,  at  a  later  hero,  so  called.  Look  at 
Napoleon  Bonaparte.  In  him  peace  had  no  place.  He 
rushed  after  victory  with  the  rapidity  of  the  eagle's,  yes,  the 
lightning's  flight.  Human  life,  and  human  woe,  entered  not 
as  questions  in  any  matter  which  had  taken  its  place  in  his 
soul.  He  had  no  reverence  for  man,  or  for  God.  Naked, 
unadulterated  selfishness,  —  love  of  war,  hatred  of  peace, — 
these  were  the  ever  active  elements  in  the  character,  and  in 
the  life,  of  that  sad,  that  awful  man.     Was   there  nobleness 


14  THOUGHTS  ON  PEACE   AND   WAR. 

in  that  falsely  called  hero  ?  Was  there  the  possession  of  that 
true  power  which  can  only  come  of  that  true  peace  which 
invests  man  with  supreme  authority  over  himself?  No.  There 
was  no  such  thing  in  that  man.  He  could  be  the  object  of 
no  sympathy,  and  so  was  only  feared.  Look,  for  a  moment, 
on  another  hero,  who  manifested  the  power  of  the  principle 
of  which  I  have  spoken,  as  constituting  nobleness.  He  was 
a  marshal  of  France,  when  heroism  was  in  the  ascendant. 
He  had  received  what  was  regarded  as  the  grossest  personal 
insult,  and  this  in  the  presence  of  many.  On  the  impulse  of 
the  moment  he  drew  his  sword.  It  was  but  for  a  moment, 
however,  that  the  power  of  evil  and  of  wrong  showed  itself. 
It  was  at  once  conquered  by  the  paramount  principle  of 
peace.  With  infinite  calmness,  dignity,  nobleness,  he  said, 
as  he  returned  the  sword  to  its  scabbard,  "  Could  I  have 
wiped  your  blood  from  my  sword  as  easily  as  I  can  this  insult 
from  my  face,  I  would  have  laid  you  dead  at  my  feet."  Such 
acts  as  these  are  rare, — so  rare,  that  when  men  meet  with 
them,  they  are  disposed  to  ascribe  them  to  weakness,  rather 
than  to  great  power.  But,  friends,  such  acts  have  their 
origin  in  the  divine  in  man,  and  they  declare  with  an  irre- 
sistible eloquence  the  human  endowment  of  the  divine.  It 
■  is  for  the  development  of  this  power,  to  keep  it  in  active 
exercise  among  men,  that  the  peace  enterprise  was  begun. 
For  this  it  is,  that  it  has  so  long  labored.  It  is  for  this  we 
have  now  assembled  to  celebrate  its  anniversary. 

Look,  again,  at  peace  in  another  of  its  elements.  I  mean 
justice.  Justice  is  the  principle  of  man's  nature,  in  which 
men  should  have  the  deepest  faith.  It  is  this  which  ennobles 
that  nature.  Around  it  cluster  our  hopes.  In  it  do  we  ever 
find  our  safety.  Give  to  justice  the  supremacy  in  the  man, 
or  in  the  state,  and  you  feel  you  have  made  the  largest,  the 
surest  provision  fort  he  truest  individual  and  public  good. 
In  its  perfectness,  justice  is  always  aUied  to  mercy,  or  love. 


THOUGHTS   ON   PEACE  AND  WAR.  15 

Such  is  its  alliance  in  the  divine  mind,  in  which  such  perfect- 
ness  exists.  So  must  it  be,  so  is  it,  in  its  measure,  in  the  human. 
Without  it,  peace  cannot  be.  How  does  justice,  in  this  con- 
nection, promote,  make  peace  ?  It  recognizes  every  where, 
and  in  every  body,  equal  rights.  It  ever  holds  the  personal 
in  subjection.  It  makes  criminal  self-love,  or  pure  selfishness 
impossible.  It  knows  nothing  of  mere  party,  that  baleful, 
that  debasing  agency,  which,  in  modern  times,  rules  the 
world.  It  sees  the  highest  general  good  in  wise  rule,  in 
equal  laws,  and  in  their  just  administration.  It  will  not 
recognize,  for  a  moment,  any  power  in  the  state,  any  more 
than  in  the  man,  to  do  that  which  conflicts  for  a  moment 
with  itself.  It  demands  from  all,  what  it  freely  gives,  and 
supports  its  claim  by  inflexible  adhesion  to  its  own  principles. 
Allied  with  justice,  —  nay,  having  its  origin  in  it,  —  what  can 
disturb  that  peace  of  which  we  speak  ?  Man,  in  his  wanton- 
ness, and  in  his  sin,  may  attempt  to  insult  its  purity,  or  drive 
it  from  its  supremacy.  But  the  effort  must  fail.  "  Resist 
not  evil,"  is  the  device  on  its  fair.  Its  unspotted  escutcheon, 
and  in  its  fidelity  to  that,  it  can  experience  no  evil.  It  has 
no  fear.  It  has  its  state  in  the  immortal,  in  the  impassible. 
Look,  friends,  at  this  great  blessing,  peace,  in  its  power,  its 
nobleness,  its  justice,  its  love.  With  what  moral,  with  what 
divine  beauty  is  it  not  invested  !  It  is  enshrined  in  the  pure 
and  in  the  holy,  and  in  its  deep  love,  asks  us  into  its  blessed, 
its  life-giving  service.  "  Blessed  are  the  peace-makers,  for 
they  shall  be  called  the  children  of  God."  Come  to  your 
great  birth-right,  then,  ye,  who  have  offered  to  sell  it,  at  the 
poor  price  which  this  world  will  pay  for  it.  Take  your  place 
again  in  your  Father's  house,  ye,  his  children,  who  have 
deserted  its  pleasant  places.     Be  at  peace  ! 

I  have  spoken  of  peace,  and  have  attempted  its  commenda- 
tion. I  have  spoken  of  it  reverently,  because  of  its  divine 
origin,  and  nature.     It  is  one  of  the  strange,  and,  at  the  same 


16  THOUGHTS   ON   PEACE   AND   WAR. 

time,  to  my  mind,  melancholy  truths,  that  the  highest  virtue, 
and  the  divinest  principle,  depend  so  much,  or  are  thought  to 
depend  so  much,  on  iiuman  power,  or  enforcement,  in  order 
to  their  true  action  on  society.  How  often  is  it  that  the 
ohvious,  as  well  as  the  true,  —  the  admitted,  as  well  as  the 
important,  —  lose  their  power  in  the  world,  because  of  their 
coming  to  us  in  close  company  with  much  human  infirmity, 
and  individual  prejudice?  The  cause  of  peace  has  been 
singular,  among  the  reforms  of  the  day,  in  not  being  obnox- 
ious to  much  of  the  objection  which  has  been  brought  against 
other  topics  of  public  interest  and  obligation.  Look  at  it  in 
its  earliest  representative  and  friend,  Noah  Worcester.  How 
beautiful,  how  simple  was  the  life  of  that  great  and  good 
man  !  Those  of  us  who  were  so  privileged  as  to  know  him, 
and  who  lived  with  him,  in  some  sense,  as  associates  can 
never  forget  the  child-like  simplicity,  the  serenity  and  sublime 
moral  dignity,  of  that  fast  friend  of  peace,  —  that  true  lover 
of  his  race.  Who  did  not  approach  him  with  confidence  and 
profound  respect?  Who  did  not  see  in  him  that  great  minis- 
tration of  the  true  soul,  which  gave  dignity  and  beauty  to  an 
external  condition,  —  of  a  humbleness  approaching  the  apos- 
tolic of  old ;  and  which,  in  advanced  age,  saw  our  friend 
laboring  with  his  own  hands  to  supply  that  strength,  support 
that  life,  which  was  devoted  to  peace  ?  I  think  it  is  very  rare 
to  see  the  inner,  the  spiritual  state,  so  distinctly  brought  out 
in  the  life,  nay,  giving  itself  to  the  every  day  and  every  hour 
expression  of  the  countenance,  and  living  in  the  whole  man- 
ner of  the  man,  as  was  the  case  in  Noah  Worcester.  He 
never  lost  the  image  in  which  he  was  created  !  The  dignity, 
the  innocence,  the  loveliness  of  the  infant  child,  were  his. 
So,  too,  was  that  light  which  lighteneth  every  man  which 
comeih  into  the  world,  —  the  gift  of  God  to  him,  —  and  he 
did  not  hide  it ;  he  never  extinguished  it.  It  shone  here  in 
the  city,  in  the  society  of  our  greatest  and  of  our  best ;  and 


THOUGHTS  ON  PEACE  AND  WAR.  17 

it  illuminated  that  humble  path  of  duty  in  Brighton,  till  it 
thence  guided  him  to  heaven  ! 

Willingly  would  I  add  other  names  borne  by  true  friends 
of  the  cause.  But  I  must  leave  the  grateful  office  of  these 
pious  memories,  and  come  to  a  theme  in  violent  contrast  with 
all  which  has  occupied  us, — the  theme  of  War,  that  awful 
antagonism  of  peace,  which  never  quits  its  hold  upon  her  till 
it  has  stained  her  celestial  robes  with  human  blood.  Yes,  I 
must  speak  of  war,  that  I  may  teach  the  whole  lesson  and 
obligation  of  peace. 

I  shall  speak  of  war  in  itself,  —  in  its  nature,  —  in  its 
PREPARATION,  —  and  in  its  results.  I  would  do  it  in  the 
spirit  of  Peace. 

What  is  war?  It  is  a  human  institution  to  settle  the  quar- 
rels, the  contentions  of  nations.  Here  is  its  source.  You 
can  find  for  it  no  other.  Nations  quarrel,  and  the  laws  of 
nations  allow  them,  nay,  prescribe  the  terms,  to  settle  the 
quarrel  with  blood.  Let  us  look  a  little  into  this  matter,  in 
its  historical  bearings.  We  may  learn  something  about  the 
nature  of  war, — what  it  is,  in  this  way.  War  was  once  pro- 
vided for  by  law  for  the  settlement  of  private,  personal  quar- 
rels ;  and  the  duel  had  a  more  sacred  function, 

"  Ere  human  statute  purged  the  gentle  weal," 

for  the  trial  or  "  wager  of  battle  "  might  be  demanded  as  a 
test  of  innocence,  in  cases  where  grave  and  capital  crime  was 
charged  upon  a  suspected  person.  The  "  wager  of  battle" 
has  been  claimed  in  our  own  time,  within  a  very  few  years, 
and  the  challenge  led  to  the  repeal  of  the  forgotten  law.  Now 
it  strikes  me  as  a  very  curious  fact  in  human  history,  that  as 
the  law  of  the  duel  has  been  repealed  in  one  country,  in 
England,  and  as  such  resort  to  arms  has  been  made  a  felony, 
both  in  that  country,  and  in  our  own,  that  international  war 
3 


18  THOUGHTS   ON   PEACE   AND   WAR. 

should  still  have  the  sanction  of  law.  Johnson  defends  the 
duel  on  the  same  ground  precisely,  by  the  same  arguments, 
as  its  opponents,  its  opponents  on  the  Christian  ground,  too, 
support  war  between  nations.  I  may  be  told  that  the  state 
may  jirevent  the  duel,  by  law,  for  it  has  power  to  enforce  its 
own  enactments :  but  that,  in  a  quarrel  between  nations, 
there  is  no  power  in  either,  or  out  of  either,  to  prevent  the 
war.  What  law,  I  am  asked,  could  be  made  to  apply  to 
such  a  case,  which  could,  by  any  possibility,  be  enforced,  as 
it  is  the  direct  tendency  of  war  either  to  involve  various 
nations  in  the  one  quarrel,  or  to  demand  a  neutrality  which  is 
fatal  to  all  foreign  interference  ?  Now,  what  does  such  an 
argument  amount  to  ?  It  simply  declares  that  there  is  not 
power,  force  enough,  the  civilized  world  over,  to  prevent 
war,  or  shorten  its  continuance.  And  what  does  this  teach 
concerning  the  nature  of  war  itself?  Why,  that  it  is  the 
antagonism,  the  conflict  of  brute  forces,  of  muscles  and  bones, 
directed  by  a  will  which  is  irrespective  of,  and  uncontrolled, 
alike  by  reflection,  or  by  conscience.  I  am  asked  for  the 
proof  of  this  grave  charge  upon  the,  so  called,  manhood,  the 
vaunted  bravery,  the  chivalry  of  men  and  of  nations.  What 
do  I  mean,  when  I  say  that  war  resolves,  not  only  ultimately, 
but  in  its  very  flrst  movement,  its  preparation,  into  brute  force, 
and  is  at  enmity,  both  with  the  reflection  of  the  reason,  and 
with  the  solemn  word  of  the  conscience?  What  do  I  mean  ? 
Come  with  me,  not  to  that  field  of  sham-battle,  —  to  that 
child's  play  of  grown  men  for  the  holiday  amusement  of  the 
children,  —  come  with  me  to  the  beleagured  city.  Whence 
that  shriek,  that  yell  of  agony, —whence  that  groan,  which 
was  the  last  expression  of  expiring  life  ?  Whence  that  noon- 
day blaze,  or  that  night-burning  which  makes  the  darkness 
as  the  day  ?  ^Vhence  all  this  outward  manifestation  of 
human  power,  —  this  terrible  utterance  of  physical  agony^?* 
That  body  of  men  you  passed  yonder,  in  party-colored  cloth- 


THOUGHTS    ON   THACE   AND   WAR.  19 

ing,  so  brilliant  and  so  gay,  —  and  those  instruments  of  brute 
noise,  and  infinite  confusion,  —  those  cannon,  and  those  drums 
and  truihpets,  those  horses  and  those  banpers,  —  that  is  an 
army,  and  tliey  are  making  war  upon  that  city.  That  blaze 
of  light,  and  of  wide-spread  conflagration,  is  the  burning 
city ;  and  those  agonizing  shrieks  and  groans  come  from 
children,  women,  and  aged  and  sick  persons,  who  could  not 
escape  the  slaughter,  and  who  are  falling  by  the  bursting 
shell,  or  the  big  cannon  ball.  Do  you  ask  for  the  proof  of 
the  brute  character  of  war  ?  Come  with  me  to  the  beleagured 
city.  What  had  that  child  done  that  it  should  be  murdered 
in  its  play  by  its  father's  house?  —  What  that  woman,  whose 
whole  life  was  the  expression  of  peace,  of  Christ-like  love  ?  — 
What  that  aged  man,  or  that  sick  person,  who  only  asked  of 
his  brother,  that  the  pathway  to  his  grave  might  be  peace, 
and  of  his  God,  that  his  sins  might  be  forgiven?  What  a 
hero  is  the  warrior !  How  brave  is  war  1  Do  you  ask  for 
proof? 

I  have  more,  and  relative  arguments  to  give.  I  could  fill 
the  hour  and  the  night  with  them.  Look  at  the  narrative  of 
battle.  Look  at  the  history  of  war.  Look  at  Scott.  Look 
at  Napier,  at  Wilson, — or,  in  the  older  times,  look  at  Cajsar, 
at  Homer,  at  Virgil  and  at  Xenophon.  What  is  the  word  of 
this  ancient  literature,  with  which  we  prepare,  by  labored  and 
expensive  education,  the  young  man  for  the  work  of  life  ;  and 
what  the  novel,  or  the  battle-history,  with  which  we  amuse 
the  idle  hour  of  our  sons,  our  daughters,  and  ourselves  ?  What 
are  these  books,  but  the  record  of  brute  force,  of  physical 
misery?  In  them  we  hear  the  appalling  groan  of  the  dying, 
we  see  the  flow  of  the  riv^er  of  blood.  The  widow  and  the 
orphan  are  our  companions  there,  and  tlie  mutilated  man, 
dragging  his  wretched  body  from  the  slaughter-field  to  that 
hospital  which  the  nation  is  proud  of,  because  it  harbors  the 
premature  old  age,  the  fast  ebbing  life,  of  its  subaltern  heroes. 


20  TIIOUGFITS   ON   PEACE   AND   WAR. 

War-litcrature  teems  with  human  agony,  and  asks  for  our 
sympathy.  Ages  have  been  terribly  abused  in  this  way. 
Men's  minds  have  been  drawn  from  true  issues,  and  their 
sympathies  have  been  wasted.  For  what  have  those  sym- 
pathies been  asked, — to  what  liave  they  been  accorded  ?  I 
answer,  to  the  physical,  the  outward,  alone.  The  character 
of  war  extends  even  to  the  expression  of  human  sympathy  in 
the  matter.  It  is  for  carnage,  for  blood,  for  wounds,  and  for 
death,  that  our  hearts  sicken,  and  our  tears  are  taught  to  flow. 
Yes,  the  sin  of  war,  too,  is  found  in  the  external,  the  physical, 
the  brute  force,  of  which  that  battle-field,  or  that  besieged 
city  are  the  terrible  expressions.  It  is  to  the  temporary  that 
we  have  been  for  ages  directed.  For  that  which  poisons  the 
soul,  that  which  alone  can  make  war,  its  terrible,  its  otherwise 
senseless  preparation, — for  this,  how  little  has  been  national, 
or  individual  regard  1 

The  awful  and  the  sinful  in  war,  to  my  mind,  is  in  no 
sense  in  the  external,  the  physical.  I  see  no  bravery  in  the 
accomplishments  of  brute  force,  superior  strength.  My  heart 
does  not  bleed  for  the  wounded  or  for  the  dying.  What  were 
your  guns  made  for,  your  Paixhans,  among  the  rest, — what 
your  powder,  your  shot, — your  muskets,  your  swords,  your 
pistols, — what  your  flags,  consecrated  to  the  work  of  marching 
men  to  murder,  by  your  clergy,  the  ministers  of  the  Prince  of 
peace, — what  all  this  preparation  for,  but  for  slaughter, — for 
wounds,  for  groans,  for  blood-stained  victory  ?  Why  mourn 
over  that  battle-field,  which  your  own  hands  have  made? 
Would  you  sever  calamity  from  wrong?  Would  you  sever 
punishment  from  guilt  ?  The  calamity  of  war  is  not  in  the 
battle-field,  with  all  which  makes  it  such.  I  see  its  great 
calamity  in  the  spirit,  the  unmanly,  the  unchristian  spirit  of 
those  who  prepare  for,  or  who  make  war,  or  who  allow  it  to 
be  made, — of  governments,  and  of  people.  The  military 
dress  is  no  more  ridiculous,  to  my  mind,  than  is  the  current 


THOUGHTS   ON   PEACE   AND   WAR.  21 

sympathy  with  the  carnage  and  the  wo  of  the  battle-field,  out 
of  place, — a  wasted  sympathy.  It  is  that  which  is  behind, 
— that  which  sustains  war, — the  ideal,  of  which  war.  is  the 
outward  expression, — this  makes,  to  my  mind,  its  whole  and 
terrible  calamity.  Without  this  spirit,  it  could  not  exist  for  a 
moment.  Its  preparation  would  moulder  in  the  long  peace, — 
the  everlasting  reign  of  manly,  noble,  heroic  love.  The 
grass  would  again  wave  over  the  walls  of  your  island-fort, 
yonder,  or  the  ocean  surge  would  cover  its  battlements  again, 
with  the  ancient,  lately  disturbed  sand.  The  requiem  of  the 
soft-rolling  wave  would  there  woo  the  weary  sea-bird  to  rest, 
or  the  ocean  storm  tell  of  its  harmless  power.  How  majestic, 
how  sublime,  the  movements  of  nature,  in  the  mightiest  dis- 
plays of  the  divine  power !  We  hear  in  them  the  voice  of 
God,  and  man  is  still !  Was  I  not  right,  when  I  said  that 
war,  in  itself,  and  in  its  preparation,  resolves  into  the  conflict 
of  brute  force,  that  its  physical  and  moral  evils  are  its  natural, 
its  necessary  results,  and  are  in  no  sense  proper  objects  of 
sympathy  ? 

Another  argument  for  our  view  of  the  nature  of  war,  is  found 
in  the  uses  to  which  it  puts  men,  or  in  what  it  makes  of  them. 
A  soldier  has  been  called  a  machine.  This,  to  my  mind,  is  far 
too  comprehensive  a  designation  for  my  brother,  when  he  is  so 
used.  He  is  only  a  part  of  a  machine.  He  is,  with  great 
labor,  prepared,  fitted  for  a  certain  place  in  the  mechanism, 
just  as  is  a  bolt  or  a  screw  for  the  machine  of  which  it  makes 
a  part.  He  is,  then,  like  these,  forced  or  driven  into  his  place, 
and  the  subsequent  labor  is  to  keep  him  there.  What  do  I 
mean  by  this  ?  What  do  I  mean  by  a  soldier  ?  I  will  tell  you. 
I  do  not  mean  a  mere  fancier  of  this  business, — the  holiday, 
city  soldier,  who  is  made  by  his  uniform.  I  do  not  mean  that 
part  of  the  machinery,  which  is  no  part  of  it  at  all ;  which,  if  put 
into  place,  allows  it  to  be  done,  and  takes  himself,  or  itself,  out 


22  THOUGHTS   ON   PEACE   AND   WAR. 

of  it,  whenever  it,  or  lie  pleases.  O,  no  !  I  mean  by  a  soldier 
sometliin^f  which  does  belong  to  something, — the  regular  of 
the  regular  army,  so  called, — he  who  is  hired  by  the  month, 
for  killing,  or  to  be  killed,  and  who  lives  by  his  pay.  And 
farther,  I  mean  the  soldier,  the  wide  world  over,  and  the 
army  every  where.  With  these  explanations  and  limitations, 
I  go  on  to  speak  of  the  process  by  which  a  man  becomes  a 
piece  of  the  machinery  of  war,  and  how  he  is  made  to  perform 
the  office  of  one.  How  this  is  done  here,  in  America,  I  know- 
not.  JNIen  frequently  know  less  about  what  may  happen  in 
the  next  street,  than  of  that  which  may  be  done  a  thousand 

lea'^ues  off.     Come  with  me  to Park, ,  some 

pleasant  spring  morning,  and  you  may  see  how  soldiers  are 
made.  It  may  remind  you  of  those  play  soldiers  which 
the  Dutch  used  to  make  in  lead  for  the  amusement  of  our 
boyhood.  You  see  there,  in  the  Park,  two  men,  in  military 
undress.  One  has  a  rattan,  or  larger  cane  in  his  hand,  and 
the  other  stands  passively  before  him.  The  one  is  the  ser- 
geant, or  corporal,  the  other  a  recruit,  a  raiv  one,  for  this  is 
the  word  that  is  given  to  that  thoroughly  well  made  man, 
who  has  passed  inspection,  and  perhaps  last  night  spent  for 
gin  the  last  sixpence  of  his  bounty  money.  You  see  how 
wholly  false  is  the  position  of  that  wretched  man.  For  the 
freedom  of  country  life, — that  joyous,  manly  use  of  his  limbs, 
and  of  his  mind  in  their  uses,  you  see  him  a  prisoner,  a  slave 
to  that  portion  of  machinery  before  him.  He  is  awkward, 
exhausted  by  the  forced  restraint  to  which  he  has  now,  it  may 
be  for  hours,  submitted.  He  may,  and  probably  will,  soon 
fall  down  in  a  fainting  fit.  That,  I  assure  you,  is  the  only 
movement  he  will  be  allowed  to  make  without  instant  punish- 
ment. But  observe  that  "  orderly "  and  his  manoeuvres. 
Why  that  blow  across  the  shoulders?  The  recruit  stooped 
somewhat.  Why  that  sharp  cut  on  the  shin  ?  That  leg  was 
advanced  rather  too  far,  or  not  far  enough.     Why  that  blow 


THOUGHTS   ON   PEACE   AND   WAR.  23 

under  the  chin  ?  The  head  was  not  sufliciently  erect.  Do 
not  continue  the  catechism.  Are  you  not  ashamed  of  this 
inhuman  folly,^this  outrage  against  manhood, — this  refined 
cruelty  !  There  stands,  and  there  moves  that  young  man, 
and  to  that  discipline' is  he  to  be  subjected  every  day,  and 
often  in  it,  alone,  or  in  the  company  of  his  miserable  fellows, 
till  he  is  cut  and  ground,  and  polished  for  his  place  in  that 
unholy  mechanism,  war,  and  from  which  he  will  never  be  set 
free.  I  have  taken  a  single  instance.  So  must  we  do,  if  we 
would  see  the  iron  enter  the  human  soul,  and  would  learn, 
yes,  feel,  how  it  rankles  there.  Follow,  friends,  that  recruit 
through  his  long  or  his.  short  education  for  slaughter,  the  in- 
discriminate slaughter,  as  we  have  seen,  of  men,  of  women, 
and  of  children,  in  that  beleagured  city.  See  in  him  the 
sources  of  holy  affections,  of  loving  sympathies^  of  Christian 
hopes,  all  dried  up.  See  the  purity  of  that  country  boyhood 
polluted,  defaced,  destroyed,  by  reckless  habits,  profligacy, 
and  sin.  Hear  that  profane  speech  which  comes  from  lips 
which  may  once  have  reverently  pronounced  that  august  word, 
Father ! — and  see  how  reeling  drunkenness  has  replaced  early 
and  cherished  temperance.  I  give  you  but  a  feeble  sketch  of 
a  picture  which  was  begun  on  that  beautiful  spring  morning, 
in  that  over-sea  park,  yonder.  It  will  be  filled  up,  1  fear,  in 
that  distant;  and  that  dishonored  grave ! 

Are  we  not  thus  taught  much  of  the  nature  of  war,  by  what 
it  makes  of  a  man  ?  Is  not  the  soldier,  what  we  called  him,  a 
portion,  a  piece  of  a  machinery,  over  the  movements  of  which 
he  has  not  the  least  control,  and  from  which  he  cannot  escape  ? 
Does  not  war,  in  its  preparation,  desU'oy  in  man,  in  tiie  soldier, 
man's  active  powers,  and  reduce  him  to  an  involuntary, 
physical,  dependent  organism?  Is  not  that  preparation,  the 
death  of  the  spiritual, — the  grave  of  holy  aspiration,  of  the 
relijiious  life? 


24  THOUGHTS  ON  PEACE  AND   WAR. 

To  what  uses  does  war  put  a  man  ?  That  was  a  question. 
It  is  ah-eady  partly  answered.  It  makes  of  him  a  slave.  He 
must  never  answer  again.  He  must  obey  the  Christian  rule 
of  non-resistance  But  not  from  his  own  mind,  his  conviction 
of  duty,  must  he  do  this,  or  these  ;  but  because  somebody  else, 
some  other  mind,  a  free  mind,  you  may  call  it,  if  you  can, 
commands  his  submission,  and  this  without  motive,  and  without 
choice.  And  suppose  he  disobey  ?  In  the  highest  emergen- 
cy of  command,  in  the  battle,  should  he  disobey,  he  may  be 
shot ! — In  less  important  contingencies  he  is  flogged.  Yes. 
The  grown  man, — the  old  man, — the  veteran  in  the  stern 
and  cruel  service  of  war,  is  stripped  for  the  lash,  by  boys  in 
years,  and  subjected  to  a  punishment  as  degrading  to  him  who 
inflicts, — the  government,  or  rather  the  people,  who  permit  it, 
as  to  him  who  receives  it.  Shame,  I  say,  on  an  institution 
which  allows  of,  nay,  which  commands  such  desecration  of 
the  human  form,  the  temple  of  the  living  God, — and  designed 
for  tlie  divine  presence.  Novalis  says,  in  the  sentiment  of  a 
profound,  a  holy  reverence  for  man,  "  We  touch  heaven, 
when  we  lay  our  hand  on  a  human  body."  War  is  without 
reverence.  It  lives  not  in, — it  reaches  not  unto  the  true  in 
man,  the  mighty  significance  of  life,  and  so  has  no  love  of  the 
one  as  such  ;  and  is  reckless  of  the  waste  of  the  other.  Look 
to  England  at  this  moment  of  universal  peace,  and  see  what 
war,  the  war-spirit  of  that  nation,  is  doing  with  man.  The 
military  law  of  England  allows  of  the  enlistment  of  boys  from 
the  unions,  or  workhouses,  as  drummers  for  the  army.  It 
requires  that  they  shall  be  fourteen  years  of  age  before  they 
enlist,  and  take  the  oaths  administered  on  that  occasion  ;  as  if 
a  workhouse  boy  of  England  knows,  or  can  know,  any  thing 
of  the  solemn  meaning  of  an  oath.  Now  it  is  notorious,  two 
cases  are  before  me  at  this  writing,  that  boys  under  fourteen, 
nay,  one  of  these  referred  to,  eleven  and  a  half  years  only, 


THOUGHTS   ON   PEACE   AND    WAR. 


25 


have  been  recently  enlisted,  and  the  wretched  parents  have 
sued  in  vain  for  their  discharge.  Justice  to  those  helpless 
parents  and  children  will  cost  from  twenty  to  forty  pounds 
sterling,  and  squalid  workhouse  poverty  cannot  pay  the  price. 
Those  children  are  enlisted  for  life.  Such  are  the  terms ;  and 
while  friends  are  interceding  for  their  discharge,  they  are  on 
their  way  to  India.  At  eighteen,  they  are  promoted  to  the 
administration  of  the  cat,  becoming  thus  the  official  agents  of 
the  army  punishments,  and  between  this  office,  and  drumming, 
they  divide  their  dishonored  lives.  Such,  su.ch  are  the  base 
uses  to  which  war  and  its  preparation  subject  men. 

I  have  showed  what  the  spirit  of  war  makes  of  men,  and 
what  a  common  soldier  is.  But  its  power  stops  not  here. 
The  soldier  is  not  its  only  or  its  chiefest  formation.  Heroes, 
yar.  excellence,  are  made  by  it.  Bonaparte  was  the  creation 
of  his  age, — of  the  war-spirit  of  his  time.  Of  extraordinary 
moral,  physical,  intellectual  endowments,  we  see  him  moulded 
by  his  age  into  a  being  of  wide-spread  terror, — of  an  energy 
which  nothing  for  years  could  resist,  and  of  accomplish 
ments  which  the  world  wondered  at,  and  submitted  to.  He 
was  of  large  intellect,  and  it  was  well  cultivated, — his  will 
was  indomitable.  He  saw  the  end  from  the  beginning,  with  a 
sagacity  which  approached  to  the  highest  instinct,  and  which 
aided  all  his  other  faculties.  His  tact,  the  power  to  discern 
what  the  occasion  demanded,  and  how  it  was  to  be  supplied, 
— that  faculty,  too,  in  Bonaparte,  was  in  most  extraordinary 
development,  and  action.  He  saw  war  in  its  true,  its  physical 
nature,  and  he  gave  masses,  yes,  millions  of  men  to  its  service, 
as  a  duty,  as  well  as  a  necessity.  Look  at  him  in  his  physi- 
cal constitution  and  frame.  Short  in  stature,  broad,  compact, 
occupying  physically  but  small  space,  as  if  he  might  be  felt 
more  in  the  spirit  than  in  the  body,  he  entered  upon  his  work 
of  conquest  and  of  blood,  reckless  of  fatigue,  of  sacrifice,  and 
4 


26  THOUcnTS   ON   PEACE    AND  WAR. 

of  sufTering.  The  war-spirit  of  the  darkest  age  in  the  most 
modern  civilization,  wanted  him,  and  it  moulded  him  into  fit- 
ness for  its  want.  He  was  a  slave  to  his  age.  He  was  the 
servant  of  the  war-spirit  into  which  he  was  horn.  He  never 
calculated  the  chances, — he  only  acted.  With  what  mighty 
power  did  the  time,  which  so  feared  him,  and  which  had  such 
deep  cause  for  its  fear, — with  what  power  did  that  age  invest 
him  !  It  saw  him  pass  from  the  lieutenancy  of  a  company, 
through  every  grade  in  the  army, — made  him  consul, — then 
first  consul, — then  consul  for  life, — then, — why  note  the  pro- 
gress?— at  last  it  covered  his  shoulders  with  the  imperial 
purple,  and  placed  on  his  wide,  capacious,  almost '  gigantic 
brow,  a  crown  which  no  other  head  might  wear.  Bonaparte 
was  the  child,  and  the  man,  of  war.  Yes,  that  little  frame 
of  his, — it  was  only  five  feet  six.  inches,: — ruled  the  world,  or 
demanded  a  world  to  check  its  rule, — and  at  last,  in  deep 
acknowledgement  of  its  power,  when  he  fell  into  its  hands  by 
the  elements,  the  power  of  God,  not  of  man,  it  felt,  the  whole 
world  felt,  that  it  could  only  be  safe,  by  chaining  that  single 
being, — that  one  man, — upon  that  desert  rock  in  the  wild,  far- 
off  ocean  ;  and  "  to  make  assurance  doubly  sure,"  it  gave  him 
in  charge  of  a  military  brute,  who  might  torment  to  death,  the 
man  whose  free  life  that  world  shrunk  in  fear  from,  and  whom 
it  dared  not  outright  to  kill.  To  my  mind,  the  disgrace  of 
that  act,  was  a  deeper  stain  upon  my  age,  than  was  its  great 
fear.  Whence  that  national  injustice,  and  cruelty, — whence 
that  world-wide  fear?  To  my  mind,  each  and  all  of  these 
had  a  common  origin  in  the  debasing  power  of  the  spirit  of 
war.  I  can  find  no  other  cause  for  such  deep,  such  over- 
whelming moral  delinquency  among  the  nations.  Bonaparte, 
I  repeat,  was  the  creation  of  the  age,  which  so  dealt  with  its 
own  work.  He  was  the  mighty  expression  of  the  desolating, 
debasing  spirit  of  war,  of  the  world  in  which  he  lived,  and 


THOUGHTS   ON   PEACE   AND   WAR. 


27 


so  nearly  ruled.  When  you  think  of  him  and  of  his  awful 
murders,  carry  with  your  thought  his  age  too.  Look  at  Na- 
poleon always  as' the  instrument  of  his  time,  in  that  wide  wo. 
Look'  at  the  deep  sin  of  his  age,  as  the  true  agent  in  the  pro- 
duction of  all  that  evil.  The  awful  mission  of  Bonaparte 
was  war,  and  he  fulfilled  it.  He  was  the  created,  the  time- 
made  prophet  of  infinite  wo,  and  the  prophecy  was  fulfilled.. 

I  have  spoken  of  war  and  of  the  soldier,  as  they  appear 
to  me.  Bear  with  me,  while  I  read  a  short  extract  of  a 
living  author,  Douglas  Jerrold,  who,  with  Sidney  Smith,  and 
Albany  Fonblanque,  and  others,  have  devoted  noble  minds, 
and  the  keenest  satire,  wit,  and  humor,  to  the  cause  of 
humanity  : 

"  Now  look  aside,"  says  Jerrold,  "  and  contemplate  God's 
image  with  a  musket!  What  a  fine  looking  thing  is  war ! 
Yes,  dress  it  as  you  may,  dress  and  feather  it,  daub  it  with 
gold,  huzza  it,  and  sing  swaggering  songs  about  it, — what  is 
it,  nine  times  out  often,  but  murder  in  uniform?  Cain  taking 
the  sergeant's  shilling  ?  .  .  .  Yet,  O  man  of  war !  at  this  very 
moment,  you  are  shrinking,  withering,  like  an  aged  giant. 
The  fingers  of  Opinion  have  been  busy  at  your  plumes, — you 
are  not  the  feathered  thing  you  were  ;  and  then  this  little  tube, 
the  goose-quill,  has  sent  its  silent  shots  into  your  huge  anato- 
my ;  and  the  corroding  ink,  even  while  you  look  at  it,  and 
think  it  shines  so  brightly,  is  eating,  with  a  tooth  of  iron,  into 
your  sword." — Jerrold's  Folly  of  the  Sword. 

Let  us  now,  as  was  proposed,  look  at  war  in  its  motive. 
"  From  whence  come  wars  and  fightings  among  you  ?"  asks 
an  apostle. 

"  What  did  they  kill  each  other  for  ^" 


28  THOUGHTS   ON   PEACE   AND   WAR. 

asks  llio  child,  in  the  ballad.  The  answer  of  James  is  well 
known.  He  gives  the  Christian  answer.  The  ballad  avoids 
the  question  somewhat.     The  child  is  told, 

"  It  was  a  glorious  victory." 

Perhaps,  few  have  a  better  reply  at  hand.  What  is  the 
motive  for  war?  A  few  weeks  since,  in  Congress,  when 
the  question  was  on  the  army  supplies,  a  member,  1  think, 
from  New  Hampshire,  moved  that  the  appropriation  for  the 
West  Point  Military  Academy  should  be  struck  from  the  bill. 
He  gave  his  reasons  for  his  proposed  amendment.  As  soon 
as  he  had  taken  his  seat,  a  member  from  South  Carolina  rose, 
and  opposed  the  amendment.  He  said  that  if  the  amendment 
prevailed,  he  would  at  once  move  that  the  permanent  peace 
establishment  should  be  immediately  increased  to  many  thou- 
sands, and  a  contingent  army  of  two  hundred  thousand  more 
be  at  once  provided,  in  order  to  be  ready  for  a  war, — I  think, 
jvith  Mexico.  What  the  war  was  to  be  for,  did  not  appear,  or 
exactly  who  should  make  it ;  but  war  was  surely  to  be,  if  the 
appropriation  for  West  Point  were  not  voted.  Here  was  a 
member  of  the  American  Congress,  the  war-making  body, 
too,  for  the  country,  who  was  ready  to  fight  with  any  body, 
if  a  paltry  item  in  an  appropriation  bill  should  fail.  Does 
not  the  answer  to  the  grandchild's  question  in  the  ballad  say 
as  much,  if  not  more,  for  the  war-:motive,  than  did  that  speech 
of  the  honorable  member  from  South  Carolina?  The  motive 
for  war  is  never  very  distant  where  the  war-spirit  is ;  and  a 
very  slight  one  ordinarily  suffices. 

"  To  my  shame,"  says  Hamlet,  "  I  see 
The  imminent  death  of  twenty  thousand  men, 
That,  for  a  fantasy,  and  trick  of  fame, 
Go  to  their  graves  like  beds ;  fight  for  a  plot, 
Whereon  the  numbers  cannot  try  the  cause, 
Which  is  not  tomb  enough,  and  continent, 
To  hide  the  slain." 


THOUGHTS  ON  PEACE  AND   WAR.  29 

B[e  thus  speaks  of  the  army  then  marching  hy  him,  on  its 
way  to  battle,  as 

"  Led  by  a  delicate  and  tender  prince  ; 
Whose  spirit,  with  divine  ambition  puffed, 
Makes  mouths  at  the  invisible  event ; 
Exposing  what  is  mortal,  and  unsure 
To  all  that  fortune,  death,  and  danger,  dare, 
Even  for  an  eggshell." 

And  then  follows  a  passage  which  contains  the  pith  and 
marrow  of  the  whole  matter;  the  acknowledged  character  of 
the  war-motive. 

"  Rightly  to  be  great. 
Is,  not  to  stir  without  great  argument ; 
But  greatly  to  find  quarrel  in  a  straw. 
When  honor's  at  the  stake." 

"  Honor,  thus,"  says  war,  "  is  the  subject  of  my  story." 
Ambition  and  honor,  says  the  poet,  keep  the  world  in  arms. 
In  speaking  of  the  motive,  it  will  be  most  convenient  to  look, 
at  the  same  time,  at  the  preparation  for  war,  which  was  placed 
by  itself  in  the  proposed  consideration  of  our  subject.  Honor, 
as  a  motive,  must  be  a  questionable,  and  a  contingent  one.  It 
must  resolve  into  the  condition  of  a  people,  its  civilization,  for 
instance,  as  it  gets  its  origin  from  this.  It  cannot  be  a  fixed 
principle  of  action.  It  depends  upon  climate  very  much.  It 
owes  much,  also,  to  refinement,  and  to  social  progress,  so  that 
what  is  honor  at  one  time,  and  in  one  place,  may  be  a  very 
different  thing  in  another  age,  and  in  another  country.  In 
the  highest  civilization,  that  in  which  Christianity  has  its  true 
place  and  regard,  honor  would  be  the  convertible  term  for 
moral  and  intellectual  development,  and  action  ;  and,  as  these 
are  invulnerable,  cannot  be  so  insulted  as  to  demand  revenge, 
the  state  of  war  could  never  be  the  condition  of  such  a  people. 


30  THOUGHTS   ON    PEACE   AND   WAR. 

The  war-motive  would  not  exist,  and  could  not  be  created. 
Honor,  then,  as  a  cause  of  war,  in  the  ordinary  use  of  the 
term,  is  not  a  princijjle,  but  an  accident.  It  is  not  a  jiosses- 
§ion,  l)ut  an  attribute.  It  has  no  true  place  in  man,  or  in 
society.  It  is  an  expression  for  a  very  imperfect  moral  sense, 
utterly  opposed  to  the  Christian  doctrine,  and  to  the  Christian 
Jife,  and  which  directly  leads  to  hatred  instead  of  love.  What 
is  it  but  "  a  fantasy,  a  trick  of  fame ;"  and  to  what  ridiculous 
as  well  as  unholy  and  cruel  issues  does  it  not  lead?  It  has 
no  alliance  with  reverence, — nor  is  it  true  jealousy  for  man's 
hi<;hest  dignity,  his  great  honor.  That  is  ever  manly,  gener- 
ous, and  brave,  for. its  end  is  the  highest  and  the  widest  good.. 
Honor,  in  the  war-union,  has  no  greatness  in  it.  It  seeks  its 
end  by  stratagem,  or  reaches  it  by  overwhelming  force.  I 
see  in  it  nothing  noble.  It  knows  nothing  of  self-sacrifiee. 
It  pronounces  absurd  the  doctrine  of  love  of  enemies.  Has 
there  not  been  much  abuse  in  this  matter?  And  after  all,  h 
any  true  form  of  the  principle  of  honor,  the  frequent,  or  the 
rare  motive  for  war? 

We  have  seen  that  war  is  physical  in  its  nature,  and  in  its 
means.  Is  it  not  so  in  its  motive  ?  Look  at  its  Preparation. 
What  is  that  army, — that  fort, — that  ship, — that  arsenal,  but 
so  many  substantial  causes  of  war?  Do  they  not  contain  a 
"foregone  conclusion?"  Are  they  not  promise  and  prophecy 
of  war?  Why  this  waste  of  mind,  of  money,  of  men, — 
of  the  poor  man's  hard  earnings,  and  the  rich  man's  wealth, 
in  this  long  peace,  but  to  be  ready  for  war  ;  and  if  to  be  ready, 
what  else  can  their  agency  be,  but  to  produce  it  ?  This  it  is 
which  gives  birth  to  the  current  honor  of  nations,  and  this  it 
is  which  finds  an  insult  of  that  honor,  in  the  most  trifling  dif- 
ferences in  the  every-day  relations  and  business  of  nations. 
You  say  that  this  preparation  is  to  preserve  peace.  And  how 
does  peace  come  of  it  ?     It  comes  of  it,  wholly  and  solely, 


THOUGHTS   ON   PEACE   AND  WAR.  31 

from  fear,  never,  never  from  true  courage.  This  nation  would 
shake  England  from  its  propriety,  by  its  mighty  armaments, 
its  war-steamers,  its  invincible  fortresses,  its  vast  armies.  And 
England  proposes  to  scare  us  into  continued  peace  by  its 
greater  war  preparation.  The  peace  of  nations  is  thus  the 
product  of  mutual  fear ;  and  while  the  balance  is  tolerably 
well  kept,  international  good  behaviour  is  thought  to  be 
secured,  and  peace  preserved.  What  is  there  in  all  this 
worthy  a  man's  or  a  nation's  thought  for  a  single  moment? 
Is  it  not  mere  child's  play,  a  real  weakness,  an  ever-present 
fear,  covered  over,  indeed,  and  very  poorly,  too,  by  an  as- 
sumed manliness,  and  a  noisy  courage?  Or  rather,  is  it  not 
the  supremacy  of  the  physical  over  the  moral,  the  rational, 
the  sublime,  and  the  noble  in  man  ? 

Another  thought  occurs  in  this  connection,  which  I  cannot 
but  think  has  a  large  place  in  the  tolerated  Preparation  for 
war.  It  occurs  to  me,  from  some  observation  of  the  military 
institutions  of  Europe,  and  it  may  have  an  illustration  from 
the  same  in  America.  I  see  in  the  armies  and  navies  of 
Europe  substantial  provision  for  the  support,  the  subsistence 
of  vast  numbers  of  men.  I  see  in  them  provision  for  members 
of  very  different  classes  or  ranks.  The  nobility  find  in  armies 
and  navies,  places  of  honor,  or  of  emolument,  for  the  greater 
number  of  its  otherwise  unprovided-for  members.  The  law 
of  entail,  which  makes  the  eldest  son  enormously  rich,  and 
all  the  rest  of  the  family  more  or  less  dependent,  finds  a  com- 
pensation in  the  wide  and  constantly  increasing  demand  ot 
the  military.  The  full  pay  supports  the  active  service,  and 
the  half  pay  of  inaction,  supports  the  rest.  Then,  again,  the 
common  soldier,  wretchedly  paid,  as  he  is,  gets  his  support 
out  of  the  preparation  for  war,  which  provides  for  his,  so 
called,  superiors.  Now  look  through  this  whole  system.  See 
it  in  its  demands  upon  industry,  providing  a  market  for  manu- 


32  THOUGHTS  ON   PEACE   AND   WAR. 

facturing  and  other  products.  See  it  in  all  its  wide  relations, 
and  you  will  learn  how  important  a  place  this  Preparation  for 
war  holds  in  the  economy  of  great  nations.  See  it,  again,  in 
its  permanency,  nothing  being  allowed  to  interfere  with  most 
ample  preparation  for  war ;  and  you  learn  how  inseparable  are 
its  evils  from  the  present  unchristian  basis  of  international 
peace,  the  basis  of  mutual  fear.  This  provision  for  the  sub- 
sistence of  particular  classes,  how  opposed  soever  it  may  be 
to  true  social  progress,  and  how  productive  soever  it  may  be 
of  the  gravest  social  evils,  is  not  confined,  in  the  foreign 
countries  referred  to,  to  their  war-establishments.  You  see 
the  same  thing  extended  to  the  Christian  church.  This,  too, 
is  so  constituted  abroad,  as  to  furnish  places,  means  of  sup- 
port, to  members  of  noble  and  other  families,  not  otherwise 
provided  for.  It  is  notorious,  that  very  frequently  such  places 
in  army,  navy,  and  church,  are  given  to  persons  wholly  unfit 
for  the  office.  But  the  grand  result  is  reached,  the  union,  the 
identity  of  Church  and  State;  and  so  the  preparation  for  war 
is  seen  to  be  as  important,  as  the  preparation  for  heaven. 
The  recent  consecration  of  the  flags  of  the  44th  regiment  by- 
archdeacon  Wilberforce,  the  son  of  that  chiefest  friend  of  peace 
of  his  age,  and  that  true  lover  of  his  whole  race,  yes,  whether 
black  or  white, — William  Wilberforce, — that  consecration  of 
those  flags  by  prayers  and  preachings,  and  the  frequent  oc- 
currence of  the  same  ceremonies  in  England,  identify  the  army 
and  the  church  so  closely,  as  to  lead  you  to  suppose  that  they 
are  regarded  there  as  indeed  one.  These  are  matters  of  intense 
interest  at  this  moment  with  the  friends  of  peace  in  England. 
They  see  in  this  perpetual  reference  of  armies  and  war,  the 
preparation,  and  the  fact,  to  Christianity  for  their  argument, 
and  for  their  sanction,  a  terrible  abuse  of  the  public  mind, 
and  of  the  public  conscience,  and  they  are  using  every  justi- 
fiable means  for  the  abatement  of  so  great  a  moral  nuisance. 


THOUGHTS  ON  PEACE   AND  WAR.  33 

Then,  again,  their  attention  is  more  and  more,  nay,  every 
day,  drawn  to  the  army  and  navy  peace  establishments,  to 
their  actual  great  amount,  and  to  the  constant  additions  made 
to  them.  Petitions  from  all  parts  of  England  are  poured  into 
Parliament.  Sir  Robert  Peel  receives  them  with  the  greatest 
respect,  and  they  are  duly  committed  for  the  consideration 
and  the  action  of  the  Commons.  The  right  of  petition  is 
thus  held  sacred,  in  monarchical,  aristocratic  England,  and 
the  subject  there  is  never  denied  the  fullest  hearing.  Parlia- 
ment is  besieged  by  petitions  from  all  parts  of  England,  and 
Scotland,  and  Ireland,  to  diminish  the  land  and  sea  forces  ; 
and  immediately,  or  gradually,  by  abandoning  the  system  of 
preparing  for  war,  say  to  the  people,  and  to  the  world,  that  it 
will  "  learn  war  no  more."  The  petitions  set  forth  the  wrong 
of  voting  thanks  to  military  men  for  their  recent  bravery  in 
barbarous  China,  and  more  barbarous  India,  in  the  slaughter 
of  hosts  of  men,  women  and  children,  on  the  one  hand,  be- 
cause the  government  prohibited  the  smuggling  of  opium  from 
England  and  America,  and  which  was  making  madmen  and 
idiots  of  the  people ;  and  because,  on  the  other,  the  dwellers  in 
the  mountain  ranges  of  India  desired  to  be  saved  from  the 
protection,  and  the  civilization,  of  a  foreign  yoke,  and  rose  to 
defend  themselves  against  the  ferocious,  the  murderous  attacks 
of  their  Christian  foes.  I  am  glad  to  see  that  a  military 
person  of  great  rank,  and  who  had  figured  most  largely  in  the 
recent  murders  in  India,  has  been  called  home.  Not  only  in 
England  is  it  that  the  cause  of  peace  has  this  deep  interest. 
The  correspondence  of  the  Society  from  France,  from  Sweden, 
from  the  whole  continent,  speaks  the  language  of  its  English 
friends,  and  with  an  emphasis,  and  in  a  spirit,  which  must 
make  it  heard. 

Of  the  RESULTS  of  War.     This  is  our  last  topic,  and  it  is 
the  most  important  one.    It  is  to  be  looked  at  in  regard  to  what 
5 


34  THOUGHTS   ON  PEACE   AND   WAR. 

has  been  gained,  as  to  the  original  objects  of  war;  and  in 
ret^ard  to  the  actual  condition  of  nations  and  individuals  who 
have  carried  it  on.  It  is  the  results,  the  present  and  future, 
in  all  human  work,  which  most  deserve  notice ;  and  to  these 
are  we  to  look,  when  we  would  find  the  character,  and  the 
nature  of  that  which  produces  them.  The  surgeon,  with  his 
keen  knife,  his  fine  saw,  his  compound  pullies  worked  by 
many'men,  cuts,  and  saws,  and  draws  the  sensitive  frame, 
after  a  manner,  and  with  an  amount  of  acute  suffering,  which, 
but  for  the  result,  would  be  no  less  cruel  than  is  war.  The 
sudden  death  by  the  cannon-shot  were  merciful  to  the  long 
surgical  operation,  but  that  the  last  has  in  it  the  great  bless- 
ing of  restored,  and  of  enduring  health,  and  of  wide  usefulness. 
But  how  is  it  with  war,  with  its  gaping,  undressed  wounds,  its 
crushed  bones,  its  conflagrations,  its  comprehensive  misery, 
its  terrible  spirit  ?  What  is  its  gain, — what  its  result  ?  In 
regard  to  that  for  which  it  was  begun,  nothing.  The  basis 
of  the  peace  treaty  is  the  status  ante  bellum,  the  condition 
of  things  before  the  war  begun.  Conquests  are  given  up. 
Libraries,  pictures,  statues,  nay,  kingdoms,  too,  which  have 
been  stolen  by  war,  are  all  restored  to  their  original  owners, 
at  the  return' of  peace,  and  as  one  of  its  conditions.  Never 
was  the  truth  of  this  more  signally  displayed  than  after  the 
fall  of  Napoleon.  Every  thing  which  had  been  conquered  to 
France,  was  duly  sent  home,  the  travelling  expenses  all  paid, 
and  all  injuries  made  good.  Between  twenty  and  thirty  years' 
fighting  produced  nothing,  did  nothing,  in  regard  to  the  very 
objects  which  were  mainly  looked  for  from  this  protracted 
slaughter.  Look  at  the  result  of  earlier  wars.  What  has 
become  of  the  conquests  of  England  on  the  continent ;  what 
of  those  of  France?  With  centuries  of  fisihting,  Ensland 
possesses  little  more  than  a  barren  rock  at  one  of  the  extremi- 
ties of  a  mighty  continent, — nothing  more,  if  we  except  what 


THOUGHTS   ON   PEACE  AND  WAR. 


35 


has  come  to  its  crown  from  a  foreign  family,  in  which  the 
succession  still  rests.  There  are  always  at  least  two  parties 
to  a  treaty  of  peace,  and  you  will  rarely  find  either  of  them 
insensible  to  his  whole  right.  The  result,  for  the  most  part, 
is  the  status  ante  helium. 

An  example  might  have  been  found  in  later  times,  nearer 
home.  It  may  be  recollected  by  some  of  my  hearers,  that 
thirty-two  years  ago,  in  June  next,  this  country  declared  war 
against  Great  Britain.  The  nominal  causes  were  numerous. 
The  real  cause  was  said  to  be  the  conflicting  influence  of 
France  and  England  upon  the  party  politics  and  the  general 
interests  of  the  country.  The  French  party  hated  England. 
The  English  party  hated  France.  Such,  at  least,  it  was  said, 
was  the  state  of  parties  here.  In  such  a  state  of  things,  how 
easy  was  it  to  find  cause  for  war.  The  Berlin  and  Milan 
Decrees  on  the  part  of  France, — the  counteracting  Orders  of 
Council  on  that  of  England,  both  of  them  thought  to  be  mainly 
directed  against,  or  deeply  affecting  our  interest, — the  British 
claim  to,  and  practice  of,  visiting  our  ships,  by  the  asserted 
right  of  search, — the  extension  of  this  practice  to  the  case  of 
a  public  ship,  the  Chesapeake,  and  the  taking  two  seamen 
from  her, — the  affair  of  the  British  Little  Belt,  and  the  ac- 
companying and  very  annoying  result  to  the  American  frigate 
President, — these  and  other  provocations,  as  they  were  re- 
garded, led  to  war.  There  was  England  struggling  almost 
single-handed  against  a  world  in  arms,  and  which  was  daily 
led  to  victory  by  its  then  unconquered  chieftain  ;  and  here 
were  we  ready  to  enter  the  contest  against  her,  and  for  cause 
which  a  true  and  mutual  love  of  peace  might,  and  would, 
have  removed,  in  the  deliberations  of  an  hour.  But  what 
was  the  result  of  that  war?  Those  two  frigates,  which  had 
so  active  a  part  in  its  precursory  events,  were  sacrificed  to  its 
spirit.    What  is  singular  in  this  connection  is,  that  other  ships 


36  THOUGHTS   ON   PEACE   AND   WAR. 

escaped  in  ways  most  extraordinary,  from  capture,  nay,  were 
even  successful  over  enemies'  vessels,  while  those  which  led 
the  van  of  the  war  were  both  captured,  one  in  sight  of  this 
harbor,  the  other  somewhere  on  the  coast  of  the  South  Ameri- 
can continent.  What  other  results  in  regard  to  the  objects  of 
the  war?  Not  one.  The  treaty  of  Ghent  left  the  questions 
which  led  to  the  contest  just  where  they  were.  Nothing, 
nothing  was  gained  to  us  in  these  regards,  either  by  the  blood 
of  the  warrior,  or  by  the  diplomacy  of  the  commissioners. 

I  need  hardly  to  speak  of  the  result  to  the  active  agents  in 
that  or  of  any  other  war.  The  statistics  of  bloodshed,  of 
wounds,  of  deaths,  and  of  wasted  morals,  and  of  wasted 
money,— ;of  these,  I  have  no  occasion  to  speak,  A  genera- 
tion has  passed  away  since  that  June  declaration,  and  its 
memory  belongs  to  history.  It  was  not  out  of  place  to  allude 
to  it  here,  to  add  new  illustration  to  the  asserted  doctrine  and 
fact,  that  the  results  of  national  conflicts  are  never  the  ac- 
complishment of  the  objects  for  which  the  conflicts  were 
begun.  This  is  the  rule.  Are  the  exceptions  more  than 
sufficient  to  prove  it? 

The  history  of  the  cause  of  peace,  as  a  distinct  effort  to 
bring  to  an  end  the  unchristian  custom  of  war,  need  not  detain 
us.  It  begun  in  this  country,  as  have  some  others  of  the 
most  important  reforms  of  the  day.  It  soon  extended  itself 
to  Europe,  and  is  there  an  object  of  much  more  active  interest 
than  it  is  in  America.  The  cause  is  plain.  It  is  there  most 
wanted.  Enormous  debt,  and  constantly  increasing  pauper- 
ism, have  been  the  daily  products  of  European  wars,  and 
their  preparation.  The  Peace  cause  has  at  length  arrested 
the  regards  of  statesmen,  and  of  governments,  and  we  have 
faith  in  its  ultimate  and  complete  triumphs.  Its  operations 
are  simple.     It  labors   by  a  constant  reference  to  established 


THOUGHTS   ON    PEACE   AND   WAR.  37 

facts,  and  by  spreading  these  broadcast  every  where,  to  diffuse 
such  knowledge  as  must  lead  to  remedy.  It  has  societies, 
national  and  local,  over  most  of  Europe  and  America,  and 
annually  it  collects  its  friends,  for  encouragement,  and  for 
counsel.  A  very  striking  movement  has  been  made  recently. 
Very  carefully  prepared  public  documents  have  been  address- 
ed to  governments  every  where,  setting  forth  the  obligations 
of  Peace,  and  pointing  out  how  these  may  be  established. 
This  plan  proposes  that  all  international  difficulties  and  dis- 
putes shall  hereafter  be  settled  by  arbitration, — and  that  war 
should  cease  to  be  regarded  as  a  recognized  means  for  their 
adjustment.  The  progress  of  such  a  reform  must  be  slow. 
The  weapons  of  our  warfare  are  not  carnal.  They  are  the 
power  of  love,  its  supremacy  over  the  hate  principle.  Peace 
reaches  to  every  social  or  individual  antagonism  which  in- 
volves uncharitableness,  in  every  part  of  it,  even  if  it  be  only 
by  accident.  It  prays  for  the  coming  of  the  kingdom  of  God, 
— it  prays  for  the  reign  of  Christ  in  the  world.  Are  we 
faithful  to  the  benign  principle  of  Peace?  Are  we  true  to 
its  life-giving  spirit  ?  Is  the  party  contention  of  this  wide 
nation,  the  striving  of  friends,  of  lovers  of  men  ;  and  will 
the  success  of  either,  be  matter  of  general  congratulation  ? 
Or  will  success  bring  with  it  triumph  ?  Will  men,  in  the 
war-spirit,  trample  upon  those  who  may  be  overcome  ?  Will 
they  only  rejoice  in  their  downfall,  and  in  their  humiliation  ? 
Triumph  is  not  the  expression  of  the  highest  principle  in 
human  nature.  It  is  the  antagonist  of  true  humility.  It  is 
the  grave  of  generous  sympathy.  It  forgets  how  short-lived 
is  success.  It  sees  not  how  soon  it  may  be  itself  hurled  from 
power,  and  the  banner  of  victory  be  placed  in  other  hands. 
Triumph  is  neither  wise,  nor  noble.  It  is  the  power  of  the 
self,  declaring  itself  against  every  other  interest.  Peace  sits 
calmly  above  the  temporary,  and  the  vain.     Its  state,  as  we 


38  THOUGHTS   ON   PEACE   AND   WAR. 

have  scon,  is  a  noble  humility,  which  looks  with  deep  interest 
also  oil  the  things  of  others.  It  invites  us  to  its  gentle,  its 
sublinu',  its  divine,  service.  It  asks  us,  with  infinite  tender- 
ness, to  come  to  its  altar  of  sacrifice,  and  there  to  olFer  our 
gifts, — there  to  renew  our  pledges  of  fidelity  to  its  life-giving 
principle. 


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